If Only
by galaxies in her eyes
Summary: If only this was a dream that Pansy could wake up from and then maybe cry a little. But this is a harsh reality, a remembrance that the one she loves is not hers — can never be hers.


**Hogwarts (Challenges and Assignments).**

 _Assignment 7 — Wandlore: Wanduse by Fairy Godmothers — task 1 — Cinderella — write about something that ends at midnight_

 _Going, Going, Gone! — (pairing) Draco/Pansy_

* * *

Pansy knows that it is too good to last. As she sways with Draco, she can't help but wish he is hers. But that dream will never come true.

She remembers a time, years ago, when they had promised to always be best friends. Draco had even asked her to be his girl when they grew up. How times change, she sighs to herself.

If only.

* * *

Pansy knows that it will not — cannot — happen. For he is happy — happy with her best friend. But can she still call herself friends with Astoria?

Astoria, who'd known that Pansy had been in love with Draco when she announced they were courting, and who'd known that Pansy had been in love with Draco for years before Astoria even paid attention to boys' existences.

Astoria, who'd told her friend with a smiling countenance, as though she expected Pansy to be happy for her.

* * *

Pansy knows when she receives the invitation to the New Year's ball at Malfoy Manor that it will be a Very Bad Idea indeed. She doesn't think she can stand to dance with everyone but the one she wants to dance with most. For he is claimed already — claimed by a Pureblood contract that is nigh on impossible to break — and she knows that Astoria will barely, if ever, let Draco out of her sight.

And yet she still scrawls a quick note back to Narcissa stating that she will be there.

Why?

Because she can't resist the temptation.

* * *

And so she dresses up in her fanciest clothes — diamonds and rubies adorning her throat, a pearl circlet at her brow, and a dress of the finest Parisian silk in a light blue shade — and hires a carriage.

As she watches the buildings go by through the tinted window, she wishes fervently for her heart's desire. But she knows that it would never be.

When the carriage pulls up in front of Malfoy Manor, she disembarks and shoots a fake smile at the driver before turning to the ten step staircase leading up to the front door. The snow has been removed, leaving only the smooth, white marble steps.

She ascends them, keeping her white-gloved hands clasped in front of her, and breathes deeply when she reaches the door.

 _Rap, tap, tap_ , go the backs of her knuckles on the wood.

The door swings open, and Narcissa Malfoy stands there, illuminated by the brilliant lights behind her. "Come in, come in, darling." She leans in and the two women touch cheeks, swapping air kisses.

Pansy is ushered inside, and she blinks in awe at the lavish decorations. The manor is beautiful, she thinks to herself.

Astoria will be lucky to live here.

* * *

"Champagne?" A voice startles Pansy out of her reverie, and she glances to her left...and finds herself staring into the slate grey eyes of Draco Malfoy. The depth within his eyes is amazing.

She smiles weakly and accepts the glass he holds out to her. In as casual of a tone as she can manage, she asks, "Where's Astoria?"

He waves his hand. "Off gabbing to her friends about this or that." She winces at the fact that she wasn't invited to 'gab,' and then Draco makes a face. "Shit, that came out wrong."

She purses her lips. "I know I'm not her friend anymore — not like Tracey or Millie, anyway."

He tilts his head from side to side, a bemused look on his face. "I never did understand why you broke off your friendship with Tori." It is a statement, but Pansy can hear the underlying question in his tone — like how most Slytherins speak.

Pansy shrugs and says, "What is there to tell? People grow up, they drift away. I don't see why it's such a big deal. I mean, we were eventually going to part ways, right?"

"Yes, but _why_?" persists Draco. "Tori was heartbroken when you didn't respond to any of the letters she sent, and I was, quite frankly, very confused."

Narrowing her eyes, Pansy grits out, "Just. Because."

Draco throws up his hands, grabs his champagne flute from the table, shakes his head at the dark-haired witch, and walks away.

* * *

As the clock strikes half eleven, Pansy stretches like a cat and gets up just as gracefully. She knows several mens' eyes are upon her — or rather, her bare shoulders and back that had been uncovered when she removed her white fur shrug — but she could care less because none of them are the one she wants.

She walks around the room to avoid the swaying dancers, hugging the wall, and grabs another champagne as she passes a waiter. He beams at her, and she lifts her lips in a quasi smile that she is sure looks as fake as she feels it is.

Once outside, she breathes the fresh night air in deeply and shivers. The balcony has a heating charm around it, yet she still has chills.

The stars twinkle overhead, and the one star, the brightest star in the Draco constellation and her favorite yet most abhorred star in the galaxy, seems to wink at her. She narrows her eyes at it then turns her attention downward.

Below, the massive Malfoy gardens stretch as far as she can see, filled with exotic flowers and hybrid plants and, Pansy's favorite, the roses. Many girls nowadays, she hears, hate roses, saying that they were common and ordinary and that they preferred, say, hydrangeas or perhaps bluebells or tulips or poppies, but Pansy adored them for their sweet, simple fragrance and beautiful colors.

Someone taps on her shoulder and she jumps. Whirling, she spots Draco. "Merlin, Malfoy, what the hell are you trying to do?"

He grins sheepishly, and holds out his hand. "May I have this dance?" he asks formally, heels together, head inclined, and bent slightly at the waist.

"But there's no music," Pansy frowns.

He shakes his head again, a small smile tugging at his lips. The sight tugs Pansy's heartstrings. "There doesn't need to be music," he says softly. Wth a flick of his wand, a string of fairy lights appear and wrap themselves around the balcony rails, shedding a soft glow over them. It makes Draco's hair shine brighter and causes shadows to appear over parts of his face.

She gives him her hand and they begin to sway.

* * *

The moment is magical. The sweet breeze spins around them, the rose stems dance below in the wind, and Pansy is held close in the arms of the man she loves.

But a moment cannot last forever, and eventually everything must end. The ending, however, is not near as peaceful as she had hoped it would be.

The large clock strikes midnight with a long, loud clang that makes Pansy jump, and it continues to ding for another eleven strokes of the pendulum.

Then she hears a familiar voice calling for Draco. He has long since let go of her, and he mutters a quick, "Thank you for the dance," before hurrying away.

Pansy ignores the pang in her chest as she watches him leave, and wraps her arms around her middle, suddenly cold.

If only this was a dream that Pansy could wake up from and then maybe cry a little. But this is a harsh reality, a remembrance that the one she loves is not hers — can never be hers.

If only.

* * *

 _word count: 1256_


End file.
